The Hammer Falls
by PersonalFable
Summary: It is a time of Legend. The space marine legions, lead by the Primarchs, have conquered almost all of the known galaxy in the name of The Emperor of Mankind in a Great Crusade. This is the tale of one such world, 11-43.


Carrion birds circled high overhead, the searing heat and soaring humidity added to the almost palpable tension swimming in the air.

All around her the walls of the fortress Behemoth, the mightiest on the planet, buzzed with activity. Men in worn uniforms rushed around restocking ammunition along the length of the walls, while seven stories down on the ground teams of men strung high grade steel barb wire in intricate lines of defense. Pillboxes hastily constructed, the fast drying concrete still damp in some, were packed with explosive ordnance and ammunition for the auto cannons. A flat field leading up to the gates of the mighty bastion had been cleared a full ten miles deep, minefields and tank traps already in place to slow and break up enemy advance. Trenches had been cut in the field, more pillboxes and lines of barb wire already sprouting up in the distance. Two score flak cannons where inter spaced through the fortress, rendering an assault by air impossible. Small but powerful batteries of artillery had been drug up to the top of the walls, anti personnel and high explosive rounds stockpiled in readily available ammo dumps near the weapons. Each cannon had a small bunker built around the piece, where the men operating the cannon could shelter as the battle raged, protected from fire as they rained death on the foes.

Kim stood on the walls, her own uniform crisp and fresh, going over the planned defense with her second in command. The fortress, one of several spread across the planet in key locations, straddled the only remaining pass into the ring of mountains that encircled the capital, and was critical in the cities defense in the conflict. A hundred thousand men stood ready to defend it, an open road to the capital making siege impossible, a full tank battalion was forward deployed in support.

It was all but invincible.

Yet...

Kim couldn't suppress a shiver of fear as they discussed the coming storm. They had held the so called imperial guard for weeks, pushing back attack after attack with ruthless efficiency. She had lost count of the number of men she had killed, moving back and forth from the frontlines of combat to the capital where she helped coordinate the planet wide defense against the invaders. It was going well, the initial attacks repulsed by the well drilled and veteran defenders. Her planet had survived old night, the predation of vile aliens, and the horrors of rogue psykers.

She was proud when her leaders, a coalition of governments dubbed The nine, had declined to join the so called emperor of mankind and his great crusade. True they had lost in the initial battles in space, their out numbered fleet decimated by a perfectly organised strike, but they had dug in and resisted the invaders all across the planet. Moral was high.

Then, about a month ago, the enemy had pulled back beyond the range of the bastion's artillery and dug in, seemingly waiting for reinforcements. Communication had poured in from around the planet, each one detailing that the enemy had pulled back all across the planet. The defenders, including Kim's own battalion the Howling Banshees, had wasted no time in fortifying and repairing their defenses. Teams of analysts were creating new strategies based on the latest battles, and already new weapons previously in development were in the process of being mass produced and shipped to the front lines.

"And with the road cleared away our effective zone of engagement has increased by at least fifty percent due to the new land mines and defenses currently under construction." Major Harkshen puffed up his chest with pride, tapping the map he held. "They can attack until hell freezes over, nothing is going to pierce our defenses ma'am."

Kim nodded, pushing a few stray locks of hair out of her face and back under her cap as she surveyed the construction.

"And our reserves?"

Harkshen turned, directing his commander's gaze to the steady stream of trucks and heavy lifters coming into the base. "Almost completely topped off ma'am. Within the hour we'll be fully stocked and ready to give em hell once they come knocking again."

Pursing her lips Kim nodded again, shielding her view against the glare of the sun. The spires of Nyshon, the capital, barely visible in the distance. "What worries me is why they've stopped attacking Major. Obviously they can see us shoring up our defenses,..." Kim shook her head. "It doesn't make sense. Mark my words Major, the worst is yet to come. I want round the clock surveillance of the forces ranged against us. If they so much as break wind in our direction notify me immediately."

Harkshen snapped to attention with a crisp salute. "Ma'am!"

"And get me a flight to the capital...I don't like this. I want to make sure we're ready for whatever the Imperium has to throw at us."

Far in the depths of space, a swirling vortex opened. A maelstrom of colors coalesced into existence, colors far beyond the understanding of man swirling and fading as a fleet of majestic ships ripped forth from the newly opened hole in space, as if the dimensions beyond simply could not hold the majesty of the vessels any longer. The newly arrived ships were massive, fully two kilometers long, and emblazoned with a drop of blood backed by wings of white. The ships themselves were a deep red and like old earth cathedrals given flight, the spires rose in perfect complement to the arches and buttresses supporting them. Row after row of port and starboard side guns marked each vessel as a ship of war. The ship at the center of the formation however put all others to shame, the sheer glory of her vision enough to make even her enemies pause in awe of the perfection of its construction. It was the _Red Tear_, flagship of the primarch of the Blood Angels, Sanguinius.

The fleet moved with all speed to a position of high anchor above the planet, taking the place of honor above the planetary capital.

On board the _Red Tear_, Tilious, Captain of the first company of Astartes, was already making his way to the Primarchs arming room. His helm held in the crook of his arm, sword sheathed at his side, silently he walked along the path of Ascension. Each wall of the path was shod in soft muted gold, silver and onyx veined marble echoing under his armored heels. The walls of the path itself were covered in scrolling high gothic, the names of fallen heroes of the legion inscribed for all to see. Every ten feet he passed two warriors clad in mastercrafted Terminator armor. The drop of blood and wings, heraldry of his legion, center in each of their breastplates. Cloaks of white draped each gold armored warrior. They were the Sanguinary Guard and personal guard of the primarch himself. The fiercest fighting force in the legion, they would die to a man before they allowed any harm to befall the primarch.

After a few more minutes of silence he came upon the entrance of the arming room, a warrior barring his entrance. Azkaellon, the captain of the Sanguinary Guard and one of the most respected men of the legion.

"Tilious." Tilious bowed his head momentarily, as honor demanded.

"Azkaellon. I am summoned." Azkaellon regarded him for a moment, the face mask of his helm unreadable and implacable. After a moment he stood aside.

"My apologies for delaying you brother, security protocol must be followed." Tilious pursed his lips for a moment.

"Even here, against your brothers?"

Azkaellon nodded, just once. "Even here." Tilious snorted, but entered the room without further complaint. Azkaellon followed, and the door shut automatically behind the pair.

The Primarch Sanguinius towered before them, arms outstretched as servitors and mute adepts made last minute adjustments to the Primarch's wargear. He was magnificent. A Homeric statue scaled up and given life. A perfect exemplar of the nobility of humanity. Wings of achingly pure white hung from his back, festooned with small silver bells and other trinkets. His armor was the color of soft spun gold, like liquid dawn poured into a mold and hammered out into wargear fit for a demigod. His sword, the Blade Encarmine, stood nearly as tall as the other warriors in the room, the blade a mirror sheen and held reverently by a servitor aside the arming circle itself. After another moment the primarch stepped from the circle and took up the blade, inspecting it for any minute defects. Satisfied he sheathed the blade at his hip.

"My Sons." said a voice with perfect tone and timbre. Both warriors instantly dropped to one knee, faces turned down.

"My Lord." Both said in unison. The primarch bid them up. "Arise please. Tilious, Azkaellon has told me you come bearing a message."

Both men came to their feet as one and Tilious nodded, producing a data slate that he handed to Sanguinius. It seemed like a toy in his hand as he examined it. "This comes from General Brahmas then. The 43nd. A noble man with fine humours for command. What is your opinion of this request Tilious?"

"A fine leader for the expeditionary force. I believe his assessment to be accurate, if not understated. I've reviewed the reports of the expeditionary force and their records of the war for compliance during our time in the warp."

Tilious turned for a moment, the movement enough for a hidden servitor to activate a holo console built into the floor of the room. Immediately the planet sprang into life, floating in the middle of the room. Several areas had been picked out in red. Imperial forces, after claiming void dominance, land and are repulsed again and again from the red areas. Both Azkaellon and Sanguinius watch in silence.

"It has been a fierce struggle for the 43rd, and while they have done their duty with honor, their mortal strength alone will not see the fleet move on for some time and even then, it will be badly mauled. Already the force is in danger of falling behind schedule."

Sanguinius steps forward, motioning to one of the patches of deep red situated across the planet.

"Fortresses...and this landscape. Uniquely suited." Tilious nods, bringing up schematics and details of the fort in question, Behemoth.

"Yes my lord. The planets unique geography has produced large mountain ranges containing several rings, akin to impact craters. Every crater city is protected by nearly impervious anti air and all major entrances into the crater are protected by these fortresses. Each crater has paths, we assume, carved into the mountain ranges themselves, giving the defenders an unassailable route with which to retreat and resupply each city." Tilious turned off the holo projector and turned fully to face the Primarch.

"Nearly impervious, it is no wonder the inhabitants have been able to hold off the 43rd for as long as they have. "

The Primarch nodded. "No shame to them. All of the planets production and governance is protected as such?"

"The most important production and central governance yes sire." Sanguinuis grunted, turning to leave the arming room.

"Gather at the sensorium. Azkaellon send out a message to all captains of the fleet that there will be a briefing within the hour." Both warriors made the sign of the Aquillia.

"It will be done my lord."

The sensorium was a large spherical room with over a hundred platforms rising in concentric circles around a tall middle platform. As Tilious entered he could already see other company captains at their assigned platforms. He could already see Azkaellon at the point nearest the middle, as befitted the first captains status in the legion. Nassir Amit, captain of the 5th, was also present. Tilious took the steps leading up, standing near Azkaellon. Over the next twenty minutes or so the platforms filled up with a few others, some astartes blinking into being as the holo-projectors built into the platforms performed their purpose. The entire room was designed so that all of the legions captains could meet, no matter the distance. As it stood, the vast cavern of a room was nearly empty save the eight captains now present.

Tilious' gaze swept the room, his eyes picking out a newcomer to the gathering. He seemed nervous, but only to the enhanced perception of a space marine. His long blond hair was tied back in a simple but elegant ponytail, the sides plaited and drawn up into the mass of hair. He bore only a single stud in his brow, silver, signaling fifty years of service. Any further observation was ceased when the Primarch entered the room. All of the gathered warriors bowed their heads.

Sanguinuis' eyes picked over the room as he entered and took his position in the middle, his wargear resplendent against the whiteness of the room. He noted those present, including the young captain of the 8th company, Ronarius. He waited a beat.

"My sons, please, raise your heads." He nodded as they did, making the sign of the aquila.

"Captain Tilious has brought to my attention that this arm of the great crusade is behind schedule and sends out a repeating request of aid from the closest Legiones Astartes in the area."

Silence greeted his proclamation until Nassir Amit, Captain of the 5th, voiced his thoughts. The Primarch grinned to himself. Of course it would be Amit. No one else spoke their mind as he did.

"We are bound to gather and help your brother Horus persecute the xeno at Melchior are we not my lord? Is this task so important?" Sanguinius nodded, a hand up to forestall any outrage from Azkaellon.

"It is Amit, though I doubt the planet below will tax the strength of the legion overmuch." With his words a massive hololith turned on, a few of the captains flickering as power was drawn to the center of the room over the primarchs head.

"11-43, or Lyra as the inhabitants below know it.."

Murmurs arose from the gathered captains as information scrolled across the planet. Already Sanguinius could see each of them building strategies. Theory bloomed and died in the scant few instants the hologram had appeared.

"A direct attack will be the most effective route to neutralizing the fortresses themselves. Each company will be assigned a target. Primary-"

Sanguinius paused for a heartbeat.

"Ronarious."

The Captain of the 8th, refocused on his lord. "My lord?"

"You seem to have something to say my son."

Ronarious blinked, almost seemingly taken aback at the inhuman perception his lord had. Swallowing a suddenly dry mouth, he stood taller.

"Yes my Lord. A frontal assault would indeed be prudent but, unless I am mistaken, there doesn't appear to be any anti teleportation measures in the fortresses themselves."

The other captains murmured amongst themselves for a moment before he continued.

"I'm certain that the Lyrans have no idea such technology exists. A strike team, teleported onto the top of each fortress, would quickly be able to knock out the local anti-aircraft control. We would be able to rapidly deploy via drop pod and thunderhawk directly onto the fortresses themselves then, and take them without massed assaults."

Silence.

Several of the other captains returned to study the hologram.

Nassir laughed out loud, clapping armored hands together silently.

"From the mouths of babes." Ronarious shot him a dirty look, which only further fueled Amit's mirth. Two gold studs shone on his head as he laughed.

"Enough Amit." Sanguinius was grinning himself. Of course, he had already seen the alternate plan of attack. "Of course, I had concluded as such myself Ronarious, but it is refreshing to see a captain with a unique outlook into the field of battle."

Ronarious flushed, the approval of his Primarch a heady thing. He managed to nod.

Sanguinius laughed then, concluding the briefing in much the way ronarious suggested. Each company was to pick a squad to teleport in and knock out the local anti air control. Azkaellon and Sanguinius would attack the northern manufactorium with the first. Amit and the 5th would be tasked with the primary fortress to the west, what appeared to be another major point of refuel and resupply for the region. Sanguinuis then turned to Ronarius.

"...and as the architect of this plan, Ronarious will be given the honor of capturing and eliminating the fortress guarding the Capital of the planet. Is the 8th up to the challenge captain?"

Fierce pride welled up in the young Astartes' hearts, and he immediately nodded, the honor of such an assignment rendering him mute.

"Excellent, now my sons...make ready the Legion for war. We make Planet fall in 24 hours."


End file.
